Chapter 14
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
NOLA
Seeing as how the Brotherhood didn’t come pounding on my door, demanding retribution for messing with their little ancient ritual, I think it’s safe to say that they have no idea it was me.
At least, not that I know of. Maybe they know it’s me, but they’re playing the long game, seeing if I’ll run and hide or watch me sweat it out.
Too bad for them, I’m not the kind of person to worry about it. I’ll be vigilant, but I’m not going to freak out about it unless I have to.
It’s been a few days since the ritual, and I can honestly say I feel like a whole new woman.
If I wasn’t determined to make those men mine before, I sure as hell am now.
I’ve been holed up in my room giving my vibrator a good workout for the past two days, losing count of the number of times I’ve gotten off to the memory. I need to give my poor body a break. Last time my knees were shaking, and I'm pretty sure I was dehydrated.
Still, as amazing as it is to finally be able to use sex toys, they’re nothing like the real thing.
I wonder if somehow I could get molds of their dicks so I can make my own personal dildos.
Nah. I’m already stumped on how I’m going to get cameras in their home. I’m not sure how I’m going to get that close to them without drawing suspicion.
As I stand in the mirror, looking myself over for the tenth time, I’m still not convinced this is the outfit I should wear today.
It’s the first day of Oakridge University, and I never thought I’d ever say this in my life, but I'm excited to go to school.
I know, maybe I’ve been body snatched or something.
I’m hoping college is different from high school, though. Bigger campus, easier to avoid people, and the guys are there.
We’re not in the same year, so I doubt we have any of the same classes, but just knowing they’re going to be there also excites me.
I’m eager to see them again with my own eyes. Skittles has been trying to get them on camera, but they’ve been in and out of cars and buildings a lot over the past few days.
Most likely trying to figure out what to do about the girl they chose running away like her ass was on fire. I bet that was the first.
Like I’ve said before, I don’t want the money, I want the men. I wasn’t going to sign that contract.
If I had done so, it would have meant signing over my life to the Brotherhood, and that's never going to happen.
However, if it were signing my life over to Jasper, Sylas, and Wesley, that would be another story.
“Is it too much?” I ask Skittles, turning around to face him. He’s sitting on his little perch that I had set up for him next to my desk.
He cocks his head to the side, looking me over before he shakes his head and ruffles his feathers.
“Okay, if you say so.”
I chew on my lower lip, still not convinced this is a good idea.
I’m in a maroon top with flowing long sleeves that billow out at the bottom. It covers my body, not showing any skin, but it is form-fitting, meaning the outline of my breasts shows.
They’re not massive, but they're not small.
But this shirt makes them pop.
I’m also dressed in a pair of ripped skinny jeans. Normally, this isn’t my style, and the idea of not being covered up in my comfy leggings and baggy sweater is making me feel a little off.
I think I look good. And, I feel pretty.
Things changed the moment I saw how the three of them looked me over, the way their eyes devoured my body.
It made me feel sexy, powerful. I hate attention from anyone else, but theirs… it was intoxicating.
If I can get them to look at me like that when I’m just Nola, not some mystery girl, then what could it hurt if I wore something different?
Checking the time, I grab my bags and head down to my car. It’s a sunny day, just adding to my good mood.
Pulling out of my driveway, I pull up my playlist and press play. Trinkets by Ashnikko starts playing, and my smile grows even wider.
I jam out as I speed down the street, my window open, wind blowing through my hair.
I don’t bother turning down the music as I pull into the student parking lot. The song changes to Microplastics, and I let it play, singing along, not caring that people are watching me. It’s a good song, I can’t help it.
Closing my eyes, I really get into it, dancing in my seat, even turning the music up a little bit more.
It’s like something in me has changed. I’ve never really cared about what people thought of me before, but I did my best to avoid their attention if I could.
Now, I don’t give a single fuck. Knowing I could just end their lives if they pissed me off enough is freeing.
Nothing like a confidence boost of knowing what you’re really capable of.
The song ends, and I decide now would be the best time to leave. Shutting the car off, I grab my backpack out of the front seat and climb out.
I catch the attention of someone as I shut the car door. She’s watching me with a smile on her face. Not a mocking one, or like she thought my little jam sesh was stupid, but a genuine pull of her lips.
Huh.
“Hi.” She waves when I don’t look away.
“Hi,” I say back. She’s being nice, something I’m not used to. But not every person will be an asshole like the people I grew up around.
She doesn’t look familiar, so I don’t think she’s from around here.
“I love Ashnikko too. I’m obsessed with her Smoochies album.”
That has me perking up. I’ve never met someone who liked the same kind of music as I do.
One time in school, one of the girls saw my playlist on my phone when I was changing the song and laughed. Said Ashnikko was a freak, and her music was trash.
I wasn’t going to argue with them, it wasn't worth my time. And they’re not wrong, Ashnikko isn’t for everyone, but she’s not a freak. She’s different, fun, and quirky. There’s nothing boring about her, and that's what I love. Also, she’s way better of a person than any of them.
“Same,” I huff out on a laugh. “I think I’ve listened to it about two hundred times now.”
The girl smiles wider. “Sounds about the same for me, too,” she laughs.
She’s sitting on a picnic table that's right next to where I parked my Jeep. Long midnight black hair cascades over her shoulders in loose waves, similar to how I have mine styled. Her bright blue eyes stand out, giving her an ethereal glow.
She gets to her feet and takes a few steps over to me, letting me see that she’s wearing a blood red crop top and baggy jeans.
She holds out her hand. “I’m Callie.”
I stare at it for a moment like an idiot. Can you blame me? The only time I’ve shaken hands was as a kid when the men from the parties I went to with my dad would introduce themselves while they told my father how I was going to grow up to be this stunning woman.
I understand that murderous look in my dad’s eyes now. He would have actually killed them if they even so much as looked at me the wrong way.
Deciding why the hell not, I take her hand and give it a quick shake. “Nola.”
Her eyes light up as if she recognizes the name. Fuck. Maybe we have met before?
“Nice to meet you, Nola.”
“Are you new here?”
She nods. “Yup. I’m actually from here, but I mostly grew up in London, and went to an all-girls school for the past eight years. You have no idea how excited I am to be away from all of that. I never knew how vapid and self-centered girls could be. Well, at least those girls.” She waves her hand.
I snort out a laugh. “Trust me, I can relate.”
She cocks her head to the side. “Did you go to Crest Wood Academy?”
“Unfortunately.”
She laughs again, and I’m oddly pleased with how soft and musical it is. “Guess I didn’t miss out on much, did I?”
“Unless you enjoy not only self-centered girls, but raging asshole men, then nope.”
She lets out a sigh. “That’s what I’m afraid of.” She looks around. “If it wasn’t for my brother, I’d be going to a regular old college with normal people.”
“What’s your definition of normal?” I raise a brow.
“Someone who is genuinely a good person doesn’t judge someone based on looks or what's in their bank account, and doesn’t use them to get ahead in life.”
My lips curve into a soft smile. Okay, yeah, I like this Callie girl.
Guess this is looking to be the best first day ever.
But first, I want to know what she’s here for. That's going to tell me a lot about her. “What career are you working towards?”
“A zoo veterinarian. I love animals. Mostly the more exotic ones.” A shy look settles over her face.
“Growing up, I loved going to the zoo. It was my happy place, and the only place where I have any good memories, really,” she admits a little sadly, and my heart aches for her.
“My brother and his friends would take me all the time. We’d spend the whole day there, any chance they could? ”
“Sounds like your brother and his friends are good guys.”
She snorts out a laugh. “To me, yes. To others… that's debatable.”
Huh. Not sure if I like what she means by that. But it’s none of my business.
Her answer, however, I approve of. Anyone who loves animals gets points in my book.
“What's yours?” she asks, shoving her hands in her pockets.
Guess this will determine if she thinks I’m a freak like everyone else. “Forensic science,” I tell her. “I’m working towards becoming a forensic pathologist. My dad owns pretty much all the morgues in New Orleans. I’m gonna join the family business.”
“That sounds exciting!” she squeals, sounding so genuine, not like she's just trying to be polite.
“Really?” I raise a brow. “When people find that out, they get creeped out or look at me like I’ve lost a few brain cells,” I snort.
She shrugs. “Fuck what other people say. It’s your life, not theirs. Do what makes you happy. And if that's what you want to do, then go for it. It’s not an easy job.”
“It’s not,” I agree.
Part of me is wondering if this is some big joke, like any second now she’s going to start laughing and tell me I’m a weirdo or something.
“Shit.” Her eyes widen as she pulls her phone out. “I’m going to be late for my first class.”
Grabbing my phone, I check the time. “Damn it. Me too.”
“What’s your class?”
“Biology in the Royce building.”